As gorgeous as our days in Barcelona were, the nights were even more incredible. Nights in Barcelona start late and don't really end. There were a bunch of festive, smaller bars -- each with their own unique personality -- that were busy from around 11pm to around 2am, and then the discos starting picking up. Sleep is for losers!
Miguel at a fun small bar called Atame (translation: "Tie me up!")
Me getting a little "Venus of Urbino" on the roof of the Axel, Barcelona's self-proclaimed "hetero-friendly" hotel. (
www.axelhotels.com)
Me and Miguel at People Lounge, a bar intended for the older, showtune set. We fit in perfectly, natch.
Check out my Vodka on the rocks. Note how sharp and in focus it was. Nothing else that followed that evening was, however...
How beautiful is Miguel's shirt under extreme ISO in a pitch black restaurant-cum-sex club? Stunning.
The Sauna Barcelona had just opened the month before our visit, and definitely sets a new standard as the "W" of saunas.
Somehow, I feel like this was frequently my vantage point when looking at Miguel -- or anyone else for that matter -- during this trip. We had a surprisingly good dinner at a gay restaurant called Castro. The theme was industrial, with a healthy dose of S&M, sort of like Madonna's "Express Yourself" video. (
www.castrorestaurant.com/)
Boogying in Metro Disco. This was where we "accidentally" wound up in a back room and Miguel found himself in the crosshairs of an enthusiastic pocket gay. Miguel grabbed what he thought was my hand and scampered down several hallways pulling me behind him, only to discover it wasn't me at all and that he had inadvertently grabbed the hand of the aforementioned pocket gay, who obviously thought he had hit pay dirt. I don't have the heart to describe the poor PG's visible disappointment. (
www.metrodiscobcn.com)
No comment.
Miguel at a fun small bar called Atame (translation: "Tie me up!")
Me getting a little "Venus of Urbino" on the roof of the Axel, Barcelona's self-proclaimed "hetero-friendly" hotel. (www.axelhotels.com)
Me and Miguel at People Lounge, a bar intended for the older, showtune set. We fit in perfectly, natch.
Check out my Vodka on the rocks. Note how sharp and in focus it was. Nothing else that followed that evening was, however...
How beautiful is Miguel's shirt under extreme ISO in a pitch black restaurant-cum-sex club? Stunning.
The Sauna Barcelona had just opened the month before our visit, and definitely sets a new standard as the "W" of saunas.
Somehow, I feel like this was frequently my vantage point when looking at Miguel -- or anyone else for that matter -- during this trip. We had a surprisingly good dinner at a gay restaurant called Castro. The theme was industrial, with a healthy dose of S&M, sort of like Madonna's "Express Yourself" video. (www.castrorestaurant.com/)
Boogying in Metro Disco. This was where we "accidentally" wound up in a back room and Miguel found himself in the crosshairs of an enthusiastic pocket gay. Miguel grabbed what he thought was my hand and scampered down several hallways pulling me behind him, only to discover it wasn't me at all and that he had inadvertently grabbed the hand of the aforementioned pocket gay, who obviously thought he had hit pay dirt. I don't have the heart to describe the poor PG's visible disappointment. (www.metrodiscobcn.com)
No comment.
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